


The Winter's Wolf

by Crowlows19



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-23
Updated: 2013-08-23
Packaged: 2017-12-24 08:48:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/937988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crowlows19/pseuds/Crowlows19
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek would always have the hardest time letting go.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Winter's Wolf

**Author's Note:**

> Based off of a fanart: Winter Howl  
> By: NinaKask on DeviantArt

“Do you know him?” she asked, peering out the window into the dark trees. A pair of bright blue eyes filtered in and out of view and a dark body could be seen slithering through the trees if you looked hard enough. Her yellow eyes were tracking his every movement.

  
It wasn’t often that the lone wolf would come this close to the house, especially not on the full moon. He normally stuck to the woods surrounding the Hale home. The place was falling apart these days and anyone inside risked having the roof suddenly collapsing on them. However, deep beneath the house in the stone cellar was a den. A den used by a werewolf who was no longer interested in his human side.

  
“I do,” her father answered. “He was a friend of this Pack once. You were just a little girl then, barely more than a baby.”

  
“Dad,” she hedged as she watched the lone wolf circle around the house once more. “Why is he so close to the house? He’s never come anywhere near us before.”

  
“Tonight is the tenth anniversary of Stiles’s death,” he replied sadly. “Derek is just seeking old Pack.”

  
“Will you run with him tonight?” she asked.

  
“I will,” he replied. “Derek and I may have never been the best of friends but Stiles was like a brother to me. It’s my duty to be with his mate when he needs me.”

  
“He really hasn’t changed back since?” she asked fascinated despite herself. She knew she shouldn’t be asking this question so lightly. Stiles’s death was sensitive to her parents. Every now and then when his name was brought up in conversation her father would excuse himself and wouldn’t come back until he could hide his tears again.

  
“No,” her dad replied, finally joining her at the window in their living room. “Stiles lingered after he died. He haunts the forest and Derek can still see him in his wolf form. He can’t talk to him though. I hardly think it matters; Stiles was always the one that did all of the talking anyway.”

  
“That’s so sad,” she mumbled feeling the impact of that type of love even though she herself was too young to know that kind of love.

  
“It is,” her father said and looked up at the sky. “I have to go now. I want you to stay inside tonight. Derek may not be able to control himself during this full moon. He doesn’t know you anymore and he might attack you if you get too close.”

  
“I’ll stay inside,” she promised and made her way from the window to the basement where she could ride out the full moon in safety. She heard her father leave the house a few minutes later and later still, she heard howling.

  
00000

  
Scott let the wolf climb to the surface as the moon reached its peak. His red eyes looked into Derek’s blue ones and his sleek form ran side by side with the half-feral Beta. Derek had haunted these woods for ten years. And in those ten years Scott had never run with him. But tonight was a special night and even in Derek’s wolf addled brain he knew that he needed Scott at his side.

  
The Alpha followed Derek back to his den beneath the Hale property. Inside was an old mattress that Derek had piled with blankets and what looked remarkably like half of Stiles’s closet. Hoodies, graphic tees, and even a few pair of jeans. Derek was clearly unwilling to let any part of Stiles go.

  
Something shifted in the corner of his eye Scott turned his head to look. And there, in the darkness, was Stiles. He looked exactly the way he had the day he died. Short hair, t-shirt, jeans, and barefoot. His friend had been taken from them suddenly, caught in the crossfire of hunters searching for Derek. Derek, the werewolf that would never forgave himself and who finally cracked under the grief.

  
It had taken the Beta less than a week to disappear into the woods. Scott rarely saw him after that. Isaac had kept better track of Derek than anyone else and he seemed determined to bring Derek back into the world of humans. That was until they found out exactly why Derek didn’t want to be human again.

  
Deaton had finally been the one to clue them in.

  
“Werewolves are especially sensitive to the supernatural forces that bridge this world and the next. Every now and then when a human soul lingers, a werewolf can perceive them. But only when they give themselves over completely to the wolf.”

  
“So, he’ll probably never come back?” Isaac asked.

  
“Likely not,” Deaton replied. “Derek was quite in love with Stiles. And Stiles with him. I doubt either one of them is willing to let go anytime soon.”

  
“I understand,” Scott said, and in his heart he did.

  
00000

  
Scott rubbed his head into Stiles’s hand. The full moon meant that the spirit was particularly powerful. They could feel his touch.

  
“Hey buddy,” Stiles said. “Long time no see.” Scott whined in response. He had missed Stiles. Truly missed him.

  
“I know,” Stiles continued. “I’ve missed you too. Especially with no one to talk to but Mr. Sourwolf over there.”

  
Scott looked up to see Derek rolling around on his bed trying to mix his scent into what was left of Stiles’s scent. The clothes looked ratty and Scott wondered how often Derek did this. It broke his heart a little. Derek was desperate to regain Stiles in any small way that he could. Mixing their scents was the only way he could think of.

  
Derek glared and righted himself. Then he grabbed one of the graphic tees and seconds later Scott heard a ripping sound as the thin fabric was pulled apart in his sharp teeth. Scott recognized it as a custom shirt that Stiles had made on a bet. It was soft gray and read ‘Team Sourwolf’. Derek hadn’t been amused though everyone else had practically died of laughter.

  
“Hey!” Stiles exclaimed, offended. He rolled his eyes and turned back to Scott. “Scott I asked Derek to bring you here tonight.” Derek huffed. “Alright, I bullied Derek into bringing you here tonight. I need to ask you a favor.”

  
Scott nodded his head as best he could which was slightly hard considering the form he was in. It was really more of an odd bobbing of his head and neck.

  
“I’m moving on,” he said. “To the spirit world. I’m ready to be at rest. But I can’t just leave Derek like this. Will you take care of him when I’m gone?”

  
He nodded again and licked Stiles’s ice cold hand. He whined and pressed up against his friend. He was trying desperately to say, “Of course. I’ll always take care of him for you. But only for you.” Somehow Stiles understood and he smiled a soft smile. The type of smile that meant that he loved you.

  
“Thank you, Scott,” he said. “And just remember. I was always alright with playing the Robin to your Batman.” Scott huffed in laughter and then turned to leave. His goodbyes were finished and he left Derek and Stiles alone for their final night together.

  
He sat outside the den for the rest of the night and when the sun rose he shifted back easily to his human form. From inside he could hear Derek howling in such sadness that Scott couldn’t help but feel as if he was back at Stiles’s funeral. Derek hadn’t been able to speak, he had barely been able to function at all as they lowered Stiles into the ground. He was so heartbroken he couldn’t even muster up the hate needed for revenge.

  
Derek had simply disappeared. Scott had taken in Derek’s family and he had been the one to deal with the Hunters that had taken Stiles’s life. And now Derek had lost even Stiles’s ghost.

  
“Derek!” he shouted when the howling fell silent and Scott had begun to worry that the man had died of heartbreak. But he eventually stumbled out of the den-still in his wolf form-and allowed Scott to lead him out of the forest and to his own home.

  
00000

  
Derek stayed with Scott for months. Having him around the children had made Alison nervous but Derek wasn’t feral. Just so incredibly sad. And in the in end it was probably Alison who did the most to help him. They would sit together on the porch Derek’s head in her lap as she watched the sun rise and drank her coffee. Threading her slender fingers through the soft fur Alison would talk about Stiles.

  
“I remember we called him the Odd One,” she told him one morning. “And he was odd; in a good way. I’m of the opinion that Scott never would have survived those first years without him. I think Stiles had the same opinion.”

  
Derek huffed in agreement. He rather enjoyed his talks with Alison. Hearing someone else speak of Stiles so fondly helped him to remember that he wasn’t the only one to have lost something. And having the children around reminded him that life went on. Just like Stiles had said.

  
Stiles had wanted Derek to move on and live. He had talked about it incessantly. He had wanted Derek to find someone else to love, settle down, and have kids. A Pack. Something to make him happy. Derek couldn’t bring himself to move on in that manner. But he could pull himself together and become a functioning human again.  
In the end, he managed to. Less than a year after Scott had brought him home Derek finally shifted back to human. It hurt terribly after spending so long in his wolf form and he had been rather shocked when he’d looked in the mirror and caught sight of himself for the first time in a decade.

  
Stiles would have laughed for a very long time if he could have seen Derek’s appearance and Derek’s face at seeing his appearance. It was thoroughly shocking. But a shower and some grooming had him looking half-way sane.

  
He stayed with Scott’s family for many more years working himself up to leaving the house, then finding a part-time job, and finally to finding a small apartment of his own. He still had Stiles’s clothes in the bottom drawer of his dresser and on the hard days he pulled out a shirt and would simply hold it as he lay in bed, too sad to move. But he was living. Sort of.

  
When he accepted having a beer with a coworker he could practically feel Stiles grinning at him. He longed to see that grin again.

  
“Why do you wear a key around your neck all the time?” his coworker asked. “I know it’s not your house key.”

  
“It’s to a jeep,” he replied grasping said key in his fist.

  
“You don’t drive a jeep,” the other man said.

  
“Stiles drove a jeep. Until the day he died. It was the only car he ever drove.” His coworker nodded. Everyone in Beacon Hills knew about Stiles and Derek. They may not have known the full story but they knew enough to feel sympathy and pity for him. Derek hated the pity and he didn’t really care about the sympathy one way or the other.

  
He had his Pack and that would be all he needed until he died and could finally be reunited with Stiles.


End file.
